ce looked still paler than
before, and his hands and legs trembled, as he dismounted from the cob
and gave the reins to his servant. I disliked the looks of the chap--of
the master, I mean--at the first moment he came up, when he spoke rudely
to that nice gentle wife of his; and I thought he was a cowardly fellow,
as the adventure of the cob showed him to be. Heaven bless you! a baby
could have ridden it; and here was the man with his soul in his mouth at
the very first kick.

"Oh, quick! _do_ come in, Edmund," said Lady Fanny, laughing; and the
carriage steps being let down, and giving me a great scowl as he came in,
he was going to place himself in Lady Fanny's corner (I warrant you I
wouldn't budge from mine), when the little rogue cried out, "Oh, no! by
no means, Mr. Preston. Shut the door, Thomas. And oh! what fun it will
be to show all the world a Secretary of State riding bodkin!"

And pretty glum the Secretary of State looked, I assure you!

"Take my place, Edmund, and don't mind Fanny's folly," said Lady Jane,
timidly.

"Oh no! Pray, madam, don't stir! I'm comfortable, very comfortable; and
so I hope is this Mr.--this gentleman."

"Perfectly, I assure you," says I. "I was going to offer to ride your
horse home for you, as you seemed to be rather frightened at it; but the
fact was, I was so comfortable here that really I _couldn't_ move."

Such a grin as old Lady Drum gave when I said that!--how her little eyes
twinkled, and her little sly mouth puckered up! I couldn't help
speaking, for, look you, my blood was up.

"We shall always be happy of your company, Cousin Titmarsh," says she;
and handed me a gold snuff-box, out of which I took a pinch, and sneezed
with the air of a lord.

"As you have invited this gentleman into your carriage, Lady Jane
Preston, hadn't you better invite him home to dinner?" says Mr. Preston,
quite blue with rage.

"I invited him into my carriage," says the old lady; "and as we are going
to dine at your house, and you press it, I'm sure I shall be very happy
to see him there."

"I'm very sorry I'm engaged," said I.

"Oh, indeed, what a pity!" says Right Honourable Ned, still glowering at
his wife. "What a pity that this gentleman--I forget his name--that your
friend, Lady Jane, is engaged! I am sure you would have had such
gratification in meeting your relation in Whitehall."

Lady Drum was over-fond of finding out relations to be sure; but this
speech of Right